11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Xavier

M y head was throbbing again… which probably wasn't the best thing. I had a feeling sustaining multiple head injuries back to back wasn't going to do a damn thing for the memory loss I was suffering, but I couldn't really do anything about it, could I?

It wasn't like I'd asked some asshole to chase after me. Fuck, he wasn't even really chasing me. He was after Marshall, which meant that whoever had sent him had no idea I existed.

I wasn't sure if that was a pro or con.

I'd let Axel half carry, half lead me back to his bedroom—it was better than being put on the couch. Whatever barrier he'd tried to form between us had apparently come tumbling down the minute someone tried to kill me. As much as I hated being hurt, it was worth it to finally see past that wall. As much as he'd tried to hide it from me, Axel was showing me now that he loved me, that he still cared.

As soon as he stepped back into the bedroom, a question flew from my lips.

"Did that guy say anything before you went all Sweeney Todd on his ass?" I tried to shift myself into a sitting position, but Axel's hand on my shoulder pushed me back against the bed before I had a chance. I had a feeling he wasn't going to let me move today if he had any say in it.

I had the slightest suspicion that he probably wouldn't let me leave the room ever again if he had it his way.

It wasn't like I'd intentionally tried to get killed. I would have been pretty satisfied if no one ever came close to killing me again.

"I wasn't really trying to get information out of him." Axel's cheeks looked a little pink, and I was pretty sure it was from a blush and not any blood lingering on his face. I'd had to swear on everything I knew and offer to let him handcuff me to the bed to get him to leave the house and take care of the scene he'd left behind.

I was honestly surprised that he didn't take me up on the offer. Maybe it had something to do with the way I'd settled back against his pillows with all of the exhaustion I felt clearly written across my face. I wasn't going to go anywhere. I was too tired to move, too annoyed with myself to try to run off again.

Besides, I was hoping if I didn't push my luck, he wouldn't be an asshole and say something like I told you so , since he'd clearly been right about me leaving the house alone being a bad idea.

If I could avoid that phrase altogether, that would be…

Well.

I'd woken up a few hours later when he came out of the shower, freshly scrubbed and looking at least a little more relaxed. I wasn't sure if it was because he'd taken care of the absolute massacre he'd left behind, or because I was still securely in his bed.

Whatever it was, he'd apparently given up on trying to avoid me. Instead of pushing me again when I tried to sit up, he climbed into the bed beside me, wrapped me up in his arms, and pulled us both back down.

I didn't have it in me to resist the heat of him, not when he smelled so clean and sweet. Citrus and spice.

"That's not what you smelled like before, is it?"

He froze for a second, then shrugged and slowly ran his fingers through my curls. "No. It's what you used to smell like. When you…" I could feel his entire body tense as he forced the words from his lungs. "When you died, I started using your cologne. It didn't make it hurt any less, but at least it was a part of you I could keep close to me."

Sweet man. He was too sweet for my world, but he always had been, hadn't he?

He was definitely too sweet to have just killed someone so violently that I could see the places on his hands he'd patched up because his fingers had slipped on the knife.

"Does that mean I get to use your old stuff now? What was it…" I closed my eyes and let a soft smile drift across my features. "It was warm, like amber and summer sun." Somehow, the smell of him was easier to remember than the last thing he'd said to me.

Weird, but I was too tired to worry about it… and a small part of me was happy that I could still remember anything new at all after I'd been hit in the head.

Again.

"You can use whatever you want, Xavier. You just have to promise that you'll stay where I can get it for you."

I'd already promised it once, but I nodded and dropped my head against his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Axel. I'm not going anywhere again, okay? Though…" I opened my mouth and playfully nipped at his shower damp skin. "It would be easier to promise that if I had any idea who was after me. I've never seen you be so… hasty."

Violent. Angry. Lost. He'd been so pale when I'd opened my eyes, splattered in blood and looking like he was trying to carve away the ghost of a memory instead of nearly decapitating a man.

I wondered if it made him feel any better about the guilt that he'd obviously carried for all these years.

"He wasn't the type to talk." Axel's voice was gruff. "Honestly, I think he realized he was going to die either way, so he pushed me into killing him before I tried to get the answers out of him."

That was probably true. The asshole had been a professional. He'd probably known what was going to happen to him the second he noticed Axel in the alley. There was no way anyone could have seen the man I'd seen and thought that they'd be getting out of the situation alive.

It was one more way he was different from me, different from the world I remembered existing in. I could keep a serene smile on my face while I slowly dismembered a person. Axel could kill a man, but only when there was fire burning through his veins.

Only if he had to.

Too good for me .

The thought danced through my head, and I pushed it aside. It was a good thing I was a selfish man. I didn't care if he was too good for me, there was no way I was going to give him up.

Not when his arms around me felt like home.

What I'd said to him before was true—he didn't just kill people. It had to be hard on him, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"I'm sure we can figure out who he was working for if we look at the flash drive a little more. That's what he was asking for." I wasn't sure that I really wanted to go through the information again. I didn't completely understand it, even though I knew I comprehended more than I should have because of the body I occupied. But the more I thought about it, the more I didn't want to be anywhere near a company that could just pluck and place souls wherever they pleased. What if there was something they could do to get rid of me?

What if they wanted their scientist back? The man said his boss wanted to talk to me… which meant he wanted to talk to Marshall.

I had nothing against Marshall Lister. I even felt a little sorry for him, since he was just a different version of me, apparently.

I still would have happily had his entire memory, person, consciousness—his lifetime—banished forever if it meant that I got to stay.

I'd already lost everything once.

Lost him.

The thought echoed around in my head on repeat. I'd lost my life, yes… but there was more to it than that.

There was Axel, and the way he seemed so broken, even though I'd been gone for twenty years.

There was Axel and the sweet warmth on his face as he looked at me like he was seeing the sun for the first time.

There was Axel, who was looking at me now like I was the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

I suddenly didn't care about people sent to kill or kidnap me, or flash drives. I didn't care about any of it. I just cared about the sensation welling up in my chest that felt insurmountable, almost inevitable.

I leaned forward and gently pressed my lips to Axel's throat. It was instant, the way his pulse jumped like it was trying to spill from his skin to write confessions against my tongue. I couldn't remember much, but I could remember every part of Axel's body that lit little wildfires beneath his skin when I touched it.

"What are you doing?" he murmured. I was pretty sure he was aiming for protest, but his body seemed to be on a different page. He melted under my touch, his arms going limp and his head tilting back in what seemed to be instinct. It made me smile, made me nip at that thundering jump between my lips just so I could hear a little groan tear from his chest.

Things were different—I was different—but Axel was still the same. And apparently it didn't matter what body I was in, because he could still feel me .

"Thanking you for saving me," I answered his question in a saccharine voice, and his hands danced up in response, threading through my hair before gently brushing against my temple.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"It's a good thing I don't care what you think. Don't worry, Sunshine. I'll be gentle." I kissed my way down his chest and waited for him to protest again. He was probably right, and it was probably a bad idea for me to really work myself up… but I could at least do this.

I could touch him.

I could have him, and if I was doing it because his pleasure would ground me, would make me feel like I was still solid, still whole, really here? Well… a small part of me knew that it had always been that way, too. I'd been a world of gray before I met the man who squirmed beneath me as my lips trailed down his chest.

He'd opened me up with gentle fingers and blinded me with a kaleidoscope of possibility and color. I wanted to feel that again.

"You don't have to, Xav—ah." His voice cut off in the sweetest little cry when my teeth nipped at the sensitive cut of his hip. Maybe time had stolen away how soft his face had been, how dark his hair was… but it hadn't ruined his body at all. He was still strong and lean. Perfect .

"Just let me thank you," I murmured the words in a kiss pressed against the place I'd just bit, and he squirmed again.

"I could—"

"No." This time I punctuated the word with a gentle slap to his thigh. "No. Let me take care of you."

Let me feel you .

Why could I touch him like this, but I couldn't quite manage to get the words out, to tell him why I needed it? I needed him.

Maybe I'd never been good at telling it, but I could show him. I could show him with lips and teeth and tongue. I could show him until he was crying with how true it was.

And maybe one day I would find the words where they were hidden somewhere in the depths of my chest, and I'd be able to say them, too. Maybe being in the body of someone like Marshall Lister would help me find the part of me that could speak the way I was sure he'd spoken.

He'd loved, right?

He'd been able to express it in the way Axel deserved. I wanted that.

But for now, I pulled the covers down and pushed myself until I was settled between Axel's legs. It was almost too much to resist—no, it was too much to resist. He'd come to bed wrapped in nothing more than a towel, and it was easy to flip it open so I could see every inch of his skin, still perfect after all these years.

I turned my face and ran my cheek along his inner thigh like a cat, intent on marking every inch of him. The feel of his hair tickling against my smooth skin made my nerve endings tingle, made my body light up.

He smelled so good.

Like me.

Like how I used to smell.

Because he'd held that part of me as close to him as he could, even when I was gone. The knowledge made my chest fissure, made it threaten to crack wide open.

I still didn't know how to fill myself up with words, but I could fill myself with other things. My tongue darted out and ran a wet line to the sweet place at the crease of his thigh. He squirmed beneath me, but his hands fisted the sheets like he was desperately trying to hold onto self control.

I wasn't sure if he was doing it because he was afraid to hurt me, or because he wanted me to take him apart just as much as I wanted to rediscover every bit of him between my teeth.

Whatever it was, I didn't have it in me to tease him for long. My lips ghosted the length of his cock and he shuddered—the heated exhalation of my breath made him groan. He was so sensitive to everything I gave, to every brush and tease. I could have spent hours coaxing reactions out of him.

When I glanced up the length of his body, he had his head thrown back and his eyes closed, and I understood it. Maybe I looked different, but I still knew exactly how to touch him.

But…

"Axel?" I murmured his name against the juncture of his thigh and pressed a warm kiss there. He let a low sound pour from his chest that nearly drove me to distraction. His hips gave an involuntary thrust that tempted me to open my mouth. I couldn't stop myself from running my tongue along the length of his stiff cock, teasing at the slit for a moment until he gasped and writhed again.

If I let him, he'd completely draw me away from my intentions.

If I let him, he'd keep his eyes closed for the rest of our lives, whenever he could.

I couldn't do that.

"Axel?" I said his name again, digging my fingers into his hips until he gasped in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He really hadn't changed at all, had he?

"Hm?" This time I forced myself to keep my wits about me, and I gave his hips another gentle squeeze.

"Look at me, Axel. Do you still see me ?"

I needed him to look at me, to see me, not this new body I was in.

I needed him to want me just as much as he had before, just as I was now.